by Kelly Edens

Created on: January 22, 2009

In the Depression era, these ladies were the original recyclers; the graduates of the "waste not, want not" school. A quilting bee was a time for counseling, gossip and instruction. Younger women would learn new recipes and child rearing techniques while the older women would bind their friendships with laughter and tears.

During the winter months, a cocooning of sorts started that had women gathering their flour sacks, old dresses and castoff clothing. Each item was carefully considered. Buttons clipped and put up in a jar. Zippers carefully removed and set aside. Pieces were categorized by size, fabric weight and color. Each was painstakingly measured to see how much fabric was actually available. Sometimes women traded fabric bundles for colors or patterns that were more pleasing or different. After much thought, a design would emerge and the whole lot would get measured, cut and pieced together as a quilt top.

When spring started to bloom, a curious sight would appear. Along with the new blooms and leaves bursting across the landscape, clothing lines would pop with multi-colored quilt tops, hand pieced through the cold winter. Cleaned from hours of handiwork, they were hung outside to dry in the sunshine, awaiting their final destiny with batting and firm, precise stitches.

The color combinations were as different as the ladies that pieced them. A Grandmother's Flower Garden bloomed with pinks, blues, yellows and greens. More pastels in Double Wedding Ring patterns quietly announced upcoming weddings or hopeful engagements. Bethlehem Star and Compass Point quilt tops seemed to explode like firecrackers with their sharp colors and scientific accuracy. And finally, the abstract Crazy Quilts, pieced from every leftover scrap from previous quilt creations displayed their beauty in chaotic color, texture and shapes.

The Quilting Bee invitations would begin. I like to think this is where the idea of Tupperware parties started. A woman would invite friends that had similar sewing skills. This was all with the understanding that refreshments would be served and a reciprocal invite would be expected. The bigger the quilt, the more help was needed. A typical invite of ten or more was not unheard of. Some ladies need more breaks than others, and some would decline the invite due to illness or previous engagements.

In the morning, the ladies would arrive and find the quilt top stretched out on a rack, with a fluffy interior of soft cotton and backed with piece of sturdy muslin. These racks were big and needed lots of room. Sometimes they were settled beneath shade trees or set out on sun porches. If there was still a chill in the air, church fellowship halls were used. Enough room for chairs, elbows and conversation was all that was needed.

The quilt owner would have already prepared the quilt by basting the three pieces together, so the batting would stay in place. As the women stitched, the quilt rack would be turned at one end, rolling the quilt up on a rod.

Depending on the stitch design and size of the quilt, the process could take anywhere from one day to several weekends. But the time was worth it. Afterwards, the quilt owner would remove the quilt from the rack. It was up to her to ask for help in binding the quilt. This was a long strip of material cut on the bias. It was also hand stitched and united quilt top, batting and muslin for years-centuries if the quilt was well cared for.

A Quilting Bee was group therapy and recycling unrefined. It was where the fabric of lives and bits of leftover cloth met in a marvelous metamorphosis called the Bee.

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